


Have It Your Way and Make It Mine

by MagnoliaPetal



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt, M/M, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:43:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnoliaPetal/pseuds/MagnoliaPetal
Summary: This fic series is about the summer of 9:31 Dragon and how sixteen-year-old Noalen Lavellan, the Inquisitor to be, experienced the many changes in his life at the time.





	1. Chapter 1

Hello and welcome to my little fic. Since I'm a terribly slow writer, I'll apologise in advance that it may take me some time to update sometimes. But I hope some of you will enjoy my work at least a little.


	2. Notice Whom for Wheels Are Turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting that would change everything. 
> 
> Warnings: Animal cruelty

***

Frost stung Noalen's legs to his knees as he climbed the tree. He had left his boots on the ground, his bare feet offering him a much better grip. A slight rush of euphoria accompanied the familiar sensation of feeling the ruts of the bark against his feet, their calloused soles moulding perfectly into its shape like they were meant to do just that. He smiled in triumph when he plucked his prize from the branch. Three beechnuts, fat as strawberries and, as far as he could determine, not infested by any worms or maggots. They were probably the very last ones around the squirrels hadn't got their hands on in autumn. Instead of putting them into his hip sack he stuck them into the pocket of his doeskin coat. They would make a fine treat for little Talrith. Supplies had worn thin as of late and it broke Noalen's heart to hear the little boy from a few tents down whining to his mother how hungry he was as she tried to lull him to sleep every night. 

They were all hungry, of course. Noalen felt his own stomach churning right this moment, but most of the clan had learned that it was simply the way of life. Winter meant hunger and survival with a bare minimum. It was always hardest on the young children who did not yet know how to suffer in silence like the rest of them, reminding the adults just how famished they truly felt with their cries. It was a lesson they would have to learn, but Noalen liked to surprise them with the rare finds of the last berries and nuts whenever he could, nonetheless. It wasn't all doom and gloom, however. Only three days ago the hunters had brought a massive deer back to camp and as they had become better at fishing every year, the clan had been able to feast on salmon from the nearby stream most nights. 

Fortunately, the past year had been generous; their food stocks from summer and autumn had lasted well into Wintermarch. But now, in the midst of Guardian and with as many as three newborns last year, their supplies had diminished so much that after having spent four weeks in the same spot already, Deshanna had announced they would have to go trading with the nearby city soon. The scouts had encountered some of the humans once or twice, so in all likelihood the city was very much aware of their presence by now. The Keeper had thought it wise to await a reaction for some time, especially after they had been run out of Markham quickly and violently. But when none came and she realised that their own means would not suffice any longer, she had announced the news to the clan after last night's meagre supper. 

The supply of scented oils they had made during spring and summer could have done with another week or two of ripening underground according to Salomaya, but they would be fine for trading and the shems wouldn't smell the difference in quality anyhow. As things were, most of the clan who weren't hunters were currently busy imbuing some of the leathers they had prepared throughout the past year with scent. Noalen was supposed to help them but had once again decided to run off on his own. There was still so much to discover in their new environment, he had hardly had a chance to get to know the forest by heart yet. Besides, he had never quite understood just what humans would need flower scented leather for. He would endure mamae's scolding later. For now, he climbed to the very crown of the tree, looking around to see if there were any more treats to be found. His hip sack was already full to bursting with pinecones; berries and nuts would be a welcome sight. 

Noalen's gaze drifted over the endless landscape, serene and white, dots of green here and there where the needles of the evergreens peeked through their thick blanket of snow. His eyes wandered to the faraway city fortifications; a fortress of grey stone on a hill, a giant tower in its midst crowning the city's outline against the deep blue sky with the majesty of a grown stag's antlers. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as the smell of winter entered his nose, enchanting his senses and imagination as few things could. He could smell the conifer trees of the forest; warm, sharp, and sweetly resinous. It mingled perfectly with the aroma of the icy sky and snow. 

'You're talking nonsense, Noalen,' Leviana said when he had mentioned it to her, 'Snow doesn't smell.' But of course snow had a smell! It smelled like water, clear and fresh and like… cold. Noalen could not describe it any better. While water was often tainted by the scent of stone however, snow was more bitter, softer, often mingling with the scent of earth, moist and fresh. It hadn't been the first time his observations had been met with blank looks from the clan. 

'You're just hearing the wind,' Galonas had told Noalen when he had tried to explain to the scout the song of a winter's day. But it wasn't the wind. Right up here in the tree, on a day as still as the frozen landscape painting its canvas, he could hear the sky whispering to the earth as clear as a bird's song on a summer's morn. If he listened closely enough, he could even hear the snow singing back in response. Admittedly, it was nothing compared to the symphonies of the other seasons, but what it lacked in volume, it made up for in subtle beauty. As far as Noalen was concerned, it was the others who were talking nonsense. How could something so obvious be lost on them? 

His reveries came to a sudden end when a faraway sound made his right ear twitch in reflex. Hooves on snow, no doubt about it. He looked down for just a moment before he quickly lowered himself to the beech's thickest bough. From there, he jumped to the next tree, nimble as a squirrel. The pine he found himself in now should offer more cover. Noalen looked around. The sound was approaching quickly and he climbed up higher to get a better view of his surroundings, feeling warm anticipation rising in him. Would it be one of those noble warriors clad in gleaming armour? No, the clattering that would accompany one was absent. Was it a hunter maybe? Yet he heard no barking from the hounds that usually set out with them on their hunts. Then… Could it be him? 

A moment later his question was answered by a horse breaking through the line of trees at bewildering speed, with the splendour of a salmon jumping from the river surface. Its hair was black as burnt embers, its head held high in pride. And on its back… There he was. Noalen immediately recognised the dark head of curls, the glistening that came from his eyes noticeable even from up here, his body moving in perfect harmony with every step his horse took, smoothly rising and collapsing as if he had no bones to speak of. 

Exhilaration rose up from Noalen's empty stomach, his hunger forgotten; replaced by pure fire bolting through his body, a tingle he could feel right down to his frozen toes. It was always a fun challenge for the elf to try and keep pace with the young rider. He never made it a point to dally, and Noalen never made it a point to let himself be seen. Jumping from tree to tree fast enough to keep up, ever careful not to make a sound would've been excitement enough, even without the added trial of maintaining his grip on the snow-covered branches. 

He quickly let himself fall onto a lower branch, running along with perfect balance before he leapt into the next tree. A quick look down revealed that his opponent was still riding in a straight line, but Noalen had seen humans on horses often enough by now to recognise the small signs that they were about to change course. Noalen jumped onto a branch towards his right and another glance at the rider revealed that, indeed, he had taken a sharp turn to the right as well. 

The elf kept this race up for a while; once, in a short moment of carelessness, he slipped on the snow and fell but handily caught a branch underneath, hanging from it upside down, quickly swinging himself around to get up on top again. 

Eventually the elf found himself high up in an old fir, awaiting his challenger while catching his breath. A sudden movement on the forest floor caught Noalen's eye and in the next moment cold shock extinguished the fire of his vigour as fast as it had been ignited. 

For there, in the distance, he saw a pack of wolves - eight in number - and they had obviously smelled their prey. They spread out in taciturn agreement, hiding their silent movements within the shadows of the trees until they were spread out in an almost full circle around a tiny clearing, only leaving an opening for the horse to run right into. Which, to Noalen's horror, was exactly what the animal was about to do. He froze in place as he could only watch the wolves quickly closing in around the horse in perfect formation. 

The animal neighed loudly, a scream of utter terror as it lifted its front legs high up in dreadful defense. Noalen could tell the young man on its back was desperately trying to hold on, but in the next moment he landed in the snow, the soft thud sounded like thunder in Noalen's ears; his death sentence had been spoken. His horse ran off into the thicket of the forest. One of the wolves leapt at it, but the terror-stricken animal had the good sense and reflex to avoid it. 

Noalen could already tell what would happen next. Wolves always went for the easier prey and, at this point, that meant the young man who was still sitting in the snow. He must've been injured as he made no attempt to get to his feet, instead he drew a sword and held it out towards the wolf nearest to him. Not that it would do him any good; the pack had him surrounded and it would take only one leap from behind and the other wolves would follow. They would maul him to death in but a heartbeat. At that realisation, something in Noalen snapped. He had to act. His mind worked quickly over all his possibilities. Frost had always been his favoured school of magic, easily controlled and concentrated onto a single spot. Not nearly as unruly as fire and storm, which Noalen had never had a talent for. But Frost would not suffice to scare off the beasts. Silently he cursed Deshanna for not teaching him about the art of nature magic; some raging tree roots would be a most welcome ally at this point. But Noalen was 'neither ready nor worthy yet' to learn the ancient craft of bending nature to his will. 

She had, however, taught him one technique. 

'Whenever the Fade might fail you, you can always rely on the forest to come to your aid,' Deshanna had said to a young Noalen who watched her with eyes the size of apples, 'Magic is all around us, da'len. It breathes inside the bark of a tree, slumbers beneath the earth, flows with the water. It sings in the wind to those of us who care to listen.' Noalen rested his left hand on the tree he was sitting in. He could feel the energy flowing inside the old fir, faint to the touch like the stirrings of a frozen river's current, tangible beneath its layer of ice. While he silently gave thanks to the gods of the forest, asking for their assistance, he felt the magic seeping into his body, filling his core, his arms, his feet, his very mind, as he felt a warm sensation growing in his outstretched right hand. A tiny flame at first but steadily growing into an orb of golden fire. Now if only Noalen wasn't so terrible at aiming. 

'Concentrate on the place you want it to go, da'len. Your magic will find its way there on its own.' 

He moved his hand through the air, with as much grace as one might expect from a teenager who still felt as uncomfortable in his suddenly tall, long limbed body as a newborn deer does on its legs. He watched as the fireball exploded on impact, nothing compared to what Keeper Deshanna could conjure with regards to spectacular, but it elicited the desired response. The wolves looked around in question, seeking the source of the threat. The injured man on the ground began to glance over his shoulder, perplexed by the commotion taking place behind him, but was swiftly reminded of the more pressing task at hand when the wolf he'd held at sword point - eager to seize an opportunity - lunged forward a step with a snarl. The rest of the pack followed suit.

'Fenedhis!' Noalen cursed to himself and tried his hardest to create another orb of fire in his hand. He watched it as it grew in size and when he was satisfied, he fired it at the same spot he had before, just between the man and what Noalen assumed was the leader of the pack. The explosion of his last fireball had left the ground where it had made its impact black and smouldering, all the snow melted away in but an instant. 

In the next moment however, the leader did something unexpected; he took a leap which effectively positioned it in Noalen's line of fire. The elf closed his eyes and cold pity showered down his back as he heard a most dreadful sound. A howl of anguish yelling across the clearing. He hardly had to open his eyes to know what had happened, but he had to make sure the young man was in no more danger. And, indeed, his fireball had hit the attacking wolf right in its flank and set the poor animal's fur aflame. For a moment it only stood there, screaming its pain into the world before it ran off, a blazing trail of golden terror disappearing in the thicket of trees. The rest of the pack hesitated for a moment but then quickly followed their leader. 

Noalen closed his eyes in sorrow and regret. He felt no remorse for killing the animal; even by Andruil's teachings wolves were lesser beasts, savages that would kill them if granted the chance. But Noalen had not simply killed the wolf, he had made it suffer. Tears stung at his eyes at the thought of the lingering torture the animal would have to endure before letting out its final breath. And his stomach tugged painfully at his insides at the prospect of a week without meat in penance. But those concerns would have to wait. A look down revealed that the young man was doing quite fine. Terrified of course, his gaze jumping about the treetops in confusion, looking for his saviour. He would have to wait though. Noalen flung himself to the next tree, following the horse's hoof prints in the snow until at last he came upon the animal at a nearby stream. 

The elf lowered himself unto the ground and approached the horse at cautious pace. When it caught sight of him, it neighed and took a few nervous steps back. Noalen came to a halt and raised his hands before his chest. Never before had he come face to face with one of these animals, but if they were anything like halla, they wouldn't be disinclined to a treat. He searched his hip sack until he found what he was looking for. Half a slice of bradh - bread as humans would call it - a nutritious food baked of seeds and nuts. It was the only thing Noalen had taken with him from camp; with supplies as meagre as they were, he had dared not to take more. 

'Tel'enfenim' Noalen spoke softly, the ancient words had always had a calming influence on the halla, he had found, 'Ir garan atish'an.' 

The horse did not cease in its anxiety just yet as Noalen held the spongy piece of bread out to it, but the elf could tell he had at least provoked its curiosity. As he took small steps towards the animal, it did not recoil, instead, it drew nearer to him as it grew more confident the stranger bore it no ill will. When at last its muzzle tickled Noalen's palm, he could not help but let out a small chuckle. As he caressed the animal's face, he looked it over with great reverence. It really was rather majestic. Standing tall and proud, quite a bit smaller than a halla to be sure, but no less imposing in its stature. Its fur gleamed dark as lacquer, soft to the touch and the gentle whinny it uttered as Noalen let his hand glide across its flank, was all it took to make the elf fall in love in but a heartbeat. 

'There you go' Noalen whispered with a fond smile, 'Eat up.' He looked into the horse's eye, dark amber glistening at him with newfound trust, before he took the animal's reins and led it through the trees back to where the young man was hopefully still waiting. It took only a minute or two before Noalen could make him out between the trees as he approached him from behind. He caressed the horse once more, trying to soothe it into staying in place before he turned around and faced the man. 

He was looking at Noalen over his shoulder with the eyes of a frightened deer. For a moment the elf could not help but stand frozen in astonishment; he really was rather handsome. 

'Whui meight ye be, lass?' he spoke, his low, resonant voice breaking Noalen's stupor. He had no idea what the man had just said. It sounded vaguely like the common tongue he himself had learned, yet at the same time vastly different. It almost seemed as if the man had been singing to him. Noalen did not answer. Instead, he raised his hands in much the same manner he had done with the horse; as if to show the man he came unarmed and posed no threat to him. He pondered whether he had any more treats in his hip sack as a peace offering, but alas, aside from pinecones and beechnuts he had nothing left. He noticed the man's eyebrows drawing towards each other; he had done something wrong. 

'Err ye fae thee aleyeehnidge?' It was a most peculiar sound to Noalen's ears, though rather pleasing he had to admit. It was as if the man sang a song only he knew the words to, lengthening his words melodiously, the way he spoke his R's in a manner Noalen had never heard. Yet, here was a word he thought he understood. His face, bare as it was, would not distinguish him from any of the elves living in the cities, he recognised. 

'No,' Noalen answered calmly as he approached the young man at careful pace. He saw a smile playing around his lips. 

'An' dae all thee lassies 'er yer fae speak in so low a vyce?' he asked, his voice dropping lower, suddenly excessively sonorous. It occurred to Noalen the man might be mocking him, though what exactly the joke was about, he could not tell. He knelt beside him, mindful not to make a move too quick, but such came easily to Noalen as soon as he had lowered himself to his eye level. In an instant Noalen felt the world around him come to a halt; it was as if he had stepped out of a storm into the quiet comfort of his tent and a strange sense of calmness settled over him as he stared into the man's eyes. He could not tell whether he had ever seen eyes as deeply blue as those before him, so intense in their colouring, they made the clear sky above pale in comparison. He could certainly think of one pair of eyes quite similar, but it was a memory of a time long past and better not revisited. And yet it was impossible to prevent his mind journeying back to that time and just for an instant he could see the young man's face again. Long, emaciated, blue eyes so large Noalen felt afraid they might roll out of their sockets any second. But the kindness and warmth with which they looked down upon him, his head cradled in the man's hands as he sang to him, flowed through Noalen's mind without his having a say in the matter. For but a heartbeat he was a frightened child again, relishing the love of the man above him as his only beacon of hope. 

The elf dared not guess at the man's age; the humans he had observed before appeared to age quite differently from elves. For all he knew the person before him could be anywhere between twenty and thirty years of age. Noalen marvelled at the sight of the dark shadows dotting the clear cut jaw; beards were not something his own people were privy to. 

Suddenly a flicker of recognition was ignited in the blue eyes. 

'Maker's baws, yer a lad!' he exclaimed. Again, Noalen was left confused but by now he had the vague suspicion that 'yer' must've meant 'you're'. He remembered the time when he was only ten and had sent young Galmael, who had been bullying Noalen incessantly, flying several feet through the air with a blast of uncontrolled magic. The poor boy had hit his head so hard on the ground, he was babbling nonsense for the remainder of the day and Noalen assumed something similar must've happened to the man he was tending to. Most like he was dazed from his fall and now thought the elf to be an acquaintance of his, a certain 'Ellad'. 

Noalen looked at the man in pity and put a hand on his own chest emphatically before he spoke in a calm, clear voice, as if he was explaining something to a five year old with great patience:

'No. My name is Noalen.' 

The silence that followed made Noalen worry all the more about the man's state of health, until at last he snorted and burst out laughing. The elf could do no more than wait for his erratic behaviour to come to a stop, seeing tears of laughter glistening in the corners of his eyes. 

'Crivens, ye canna understand a wird ahm say'n, can ye?' He cleared his throat and continued. 'Thirr, is that betterr? Can ye understand me now?' 

It came as a relief to Noalen to hear the young man speaking so coherently all of a sudden. He still elongated his words in that odd way, never once losing the song-like quality of his speech, but it was much easier to make sense of his words now. 

'Yes, I think I can,' Noalen answered and for the first time dared smile at the stranger and to his delight, he answered in kind. 

'That's a relief,' the man said, 'Must've sounded like a horse neighing at ye.' Noalen chuckled, half amused half uneasy as he felt his cheeks grow warm at the sight of the young man's smile. His teeth gleamed brilliant in the sunlight between his pale, full lips. 

'I must say,' Noalen said after shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to rid himself of the heat rising within him, 'I've never heard someone talk like that. Do all humans do that?' The man snickered in response. 

'You're definitely not from the city, are ye?' he replied and Noalen shook his head, 'Naw, it's just Ostwicker. Everyone back in town speaks like this, more or less. Except the posh people, mind.' Noalen furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

'Posh people?' 

'Aye. They're like… I don't know, higher up in rank. Living in castles and mansions. Rich people,' the man explained, yet did nothing but further Noalen's wonder. 

'What are… mansions?' the elf asked which made the man laugh once more. 

'They're a kind of very big houses, much bigger than simple folks like I can afford.' Noalen nodded slowly, taking note of everything the man told him. It was utterly fascinating to learn more about humans and their ways and he could hardly contain his excitement about finally having met someone he could ask all these questions that had been burning on his tongue for longer than he cared to recount. Unfortunately there was a much more urgent task at hand and the elf diverted his attention to the man's ankle. It took him some effort to do so however; pulling his eyes from the man was about as easy as pulling an oak from the earth. 

'You're hurt,' Noalen determined and started to untie the man's boot in a bid to get a better look at what he was dealing with. In the next moment the man's hands gripped Noalen's. 

'Steady on there, lad. I usually get to know people a bit better before taking off my clothes.' He must've fancied himself having said something terribly clever as Noalen deduced from the slight crinkle in his triangular shaped nose and after a moment of pondering, he understood his meaning. He felt his face grow warm with embarrassment and nodded an apology. 

'Oh no, that was not what I meant…' the elf stuttered, 'I only wanted to look at your injury. I'm a healer, you see.' The man looked at him with what Noalen thought to be slight suspicion but in the end he let go off him and nodded once. 

'Alright then,' he said and leaned back on his elbows, 'but be careful, will ye? Hurts like shite.' Noalen did his best to oblige, removing the man's footwear with as much care as he rolled up the leg of his trousers. The elf forgot all about his task though when he laid eyes on the man's leg. It was a peculiar sight to him. The skin was overgrown with thick, dark hair as a meadow was with grass, so unlike the men of his clan he had seen when bathing in the rivers and streams. Noalen wondered if all humans were as hairy as he, even more so when he caught sight of a few hairs sprouting from the man's toes. 

'Well?' the stranger interrupted his thoughts, 'how bad is it?' Noalen blinked a few times before he laid his hand on the man's ankle which made him hiss in pain. 

'It doesn't seem to be broken,' Noalen concluded while examining the injured joint with his fingers, 'but you're in no shape to ride back.' The young man sighed and threw his head back in resentment. 

'Great. Won't be back to work for a week then.' 

'I could fix that for you, you know,' Noalen replied and rubbed his hands together. He concentrated on the earth beneath him in much the same way as he had on the tree before, diverting its healing energies to the man's ankle. Just a heartbeat later he felt the familiar warmth spreading through his fingers and a golden glow emanated from them. Suddenly the man drew back from him however, dragging his body across the snow. A fearful look had come into his eyes as he held up his sword and pointed it at the elf. 

'Gi' aweeh fae me, ye freak!' he cried out, the sword trembling in his hand. Noalen did not know how to react, never before had he seen such utter terror in someone else, especially not at the sight of magic. It was as natural to him and the clan as the sun rising in the east. 

'Calm down,' he spoke in what he considered was a soothing voice, 'I'm only trying to help you.' 

'Calm down, he says!' the man yelled hysterically, 'A dinna want that sorcery of yers anywhere near ma body!' 

'Sorcery?' Noalen repeated and certainly started to take offense now, 'I just want to heal you!' When the man refused to lower his sword he rose to his feet in anger. 

'Suit yourself,' Noalen spoke dismissively, 'You can sit here and starve to death for all I care.' And with that he turned around and walked away. The gall! Here he was only trying to help a stranger in need and then to be turned away with such impertinence! Noalen stomped his way through the snow but his lingering interest in the young man rendered his pace slow and reluctant, in the vain hope he might call out to him. Which, much to the elf's delight, he did some moments later. 

'Wait!' he cried out. Noalen came to a stop yet refused to turn, partly for obstinacy, but more so because he didn't want the young man to catch a glimpse of the smile that had crept its way unto his lips. Noalen heard him sigh. 

'Yer right,' the man said in defeat, 'A canna ride back like this.' 

'Changed your mind then about the evil sorcerer?' Noalen called out teasingly and turned around after regaining control of his face once more. The man glowered at him. He sighed again, more in resentment than anything else. 

'Just… Would you mind?' he replied and nodded towards his bare foot. Noalen chuckled and approached the man, looking at him from above with a distinct air of complaisance. 

'Would I mind what?' A poorly suppressed growl left the young man's pursed lips. 

'Ye know what,' he answered, his deep blue eyes piercing the elf with contempt, 'Just… make it so I'll be able to ride back. The surgeons back in town will do the rest.' Noalen raised his eyebrows. He was perfectly aware how conceited he must've looked, but after his affront, he was set on teaching this ungrateful brat some manners. When he finally understood the elf's meaning, he rolled his eyes. 

'... Please?' he hissed through clenched teeth. A smug smile came on Noalen's lips as he knelt beside the man once more. 

'There. That wasn't so hard now, was it?' The man only grunted in response. Noalen, never particularly prone to vanity, took that as a victory however and could do little to hide the triumphant smile tickling the corners of his mouth. When at last he began his healing procedure again, he noticed the young man watching him with some tension in his eyes, as if he were afraid the elf might set him on fire at any given moment. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

'So, am I to take it it was you scaring off those wolves earlier?' he asked. Noalen only nodded, concentrating on healing the man's joint. It turned out to be a much more involved affair than anticipated, the man had really landed quite unfortunately. It may not have been broken but it might as well have been. Noalen did not yet possess the expertise to heal broken bones but he did his best to mend it sufficiently to restore the man's ability to mount his horse, if nothing else. 

'Well,' he continued, 'Must admit, that was right great.' With this though, Noalen's focus was broken. He looked at the man with contempt ere he shook his head. 

'That,' he hissed, pointing in the general direction the blazing wolf had taken off in and burning the man before him with a piercing glare, 'was not great. That was only very sad. That wolf suffered a great deal.' The man seemed taken aback by the elf's sudden change of demeanour as Noalen could tell by his widened eyes. A moment later however his eyebrows dropped and something severe came over his face. 

'Ye canna blame me for that. Wisna me who shot the beast.' At that Noalen grabbed the man's ankle which made him cry out in anguish. 

'I do blame you,' Noalen said, 'Here you are, lying in the snow, helpless like a child. I wouldn't have had to do that if you could take care of yourself.' 

'Well, excuse me!' he yelled, still pained from Noalen's grip on his injury, 'But those of us who canna shoot fireballs out our arses have to make do with this.' He held up his sword in demonstration which made Noalen snort dismissively. 

'You'll be lucky to cut through the snow with that,' the elf retorted, eliciting an uneasy chuckle from the other. Noalen hadn’t been able to stand looking into his eyes with the fury and guilt he felt until now, fixing his gaze on the man’s stubbled chin instead. But he could no longer resist the temptation to look up, only to recognise an impish look on the man's face. 

'Look… Noalen, was it?' he asked though he pronounced the elf's name in his most peculiar manner, lengthening the 'len' part of his name while completely ignoring the 'O'. Noalen thought to rectify him, but deciding it would be for naught, he nodded. 

'So, Noalen,' he continued and narrowed his eyes, 'If ye care so much about your friends back there, fancy telling me why ye helped me in the first place?' 

Noalen could attempt little more than blink in rapid succession, caught off guard as he was by the unexpected question. 

'Why… help you?' he repeated slowly. 

'Aye. Why help me?' The man's gaze had something intent, and Noalen knew he would not get away with changing the subject. 

'Because I've watched you so many times from a distance and could not allow so fascinating a creature to be mauled by wolves,' he thought, but fortunately he possessed the good graces not to say so out loud. He diverted his attention to the man's ankle once more, continuing his healing magicks awkwardly. 

'You needed help and I could offer it,' he only said in a low voice. 

'Just like that?' the man asked, clearly unconvinced. Noalen nodded and concentrated on mending the man's injury as fast he could, anything to end this conversation. 

'Just like that,' he answered softly, trying his best to conceal his shame. He could see the man frowning at him from the corners of his eyes, but before he could do so much as draw another breath, Noalen clapped his hands. 

'There,' he said emphatically, 'That should do it.' Much to his relief the man decided to say no more, instead twisting his foot around, this way then that, testing its pliancy. 

'How does that feel?' Noalen asked. The man nodded in reply. 

'Should get me back to town at least,' he answered, put his boot back on and carefully rose to his feet. Noalen had to stifle a laugh as he watched the man walking to his horse with as much finesse as a fawn. He accompanied the human on his way, always at the ready to catch him should he lose his balance. Though Noalen could not tell whether he would even be able to catch the man, it was only now he noticed how much bigger the human actually was. Standing about half a head taller than the elf and much broader, Noalen felt sure he would be crushed by his weight should he decide to fall over. 

Fortunately it was of no concern as just a few moments later, he swung himself into the saddle of his horse - or dragged himself up, more like - and looked down at the elf with an indecipherable look in his eyes. An awkward silence fell over the both of them and Noalen could think of nothing better to say than, 'Magnificent, she is. What's her name?' 

A fond smile played around the man's lips as he patted the horse on its side. 

'This is Mira.' 

Noalen smiled and allowed himself to caress the horse's flank once again, 'She's a beauty.' The man gazed at him with a strange look in his eyes. Noalen looked back at him and for just an instant he felt a flicker of recognition stinging his mind; it almost felt like he had known the man all his life. The moment wasn't to last though as the young man broke the silence by gently clearing his throat. 

'Well then, suppose I'm off.' 

Noalen nodded and continued looking into his deep blue eyes, allowing himself to be swept up in them for just a little while longer, a familiar lullaby faintly echoing in his head as he did so. 

'Dareth shiral, stranger,' he spoke softly, his voice - quite against his will - tinged with a distinct flavour of melancholy. 

'Wha'?' the man asked arching an eyebrow but Noalen did no more than shake his head gently. 

'Never mind,' he answered and planted a pat on the horse's backside, Mira breaking into a trot at the touch. As she eventually came to a gallop, Noalen never once took his eyes off the quickly dwindling figure of the man. 

He felt more strange than he ever had. A peculiar feeling of loss took a hold of him, and with every step Mira took as she carried the man further away from him, the sensation seemed to grow heavier, until at last he felt as the earth must have, with the thick blanket of suffocating snow pressing down upon it with all its weight. 

Climbing a tree had never felt as strenuous to Noalen as it did now, it seemed to him he carried all that weight with him to its crown, the higher up he went, the more it dragged at his shoulders. When ultimately he settled down on a high up branch, he felt grateful for the opportunity of rest, even more so when he caught sight of the young man on his horse again. 

Noalen could not tell what exactly it was he hoped for; perhaps he secretly wished for the man to turn around, or at least look back over his shoulder, any sign that their encounter lingered in the man's mind the same way as it did in Noalen's. He never did either of those things though and all too soon the mere tiny spot in the distance the man had become, disappeared between the gates of the city fortifications. Noalen was left alone once more, his only company his orderless thoughts. For a long while he only sat and stared, revisiting what had just happened in his head, down to every minute detail. He pondered all the things he could have said or done differently, his mind working furiously over all the various outcomes a tiny variance in action, a slightly different choice of words on his part could have effected. All his thoughts, feelings and doubts, all the questions that had manifested in his mind ultimately flowed together into a single sensation of profound sadness. He could not guess why it affected him so much but it seemed to him a door at the edge of the tiny world he'd been living in so far had been opened to him. A portal to an unknown realm of endless possibility and countless things to learn, left ajar for him to step through, only to be slammed shut when he attempted to do just that. 

Noalen lost all sense of time as he sat there but when at last the rose of dusk came into blossom across the sky, he shrugged and made the effort to awaken his body that had been numbed by the cold. 

'Now, where did I leave my boots?' he thought ere he got to his feet and set out to find them. 

***


End file.
